


By the hands of strangers.

by Munnin



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: First Meetings, Other, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-31 01:33:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15109022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Munnin/pseuds/Munnin
Summary: Youngling Obi-wan Kenobi stands outside the council room door, waiting to be told his fate, and his future master.Written as part of a first meetings challenge.





	By the hands of strangers.

Obi-wan rocked heel to toe, heel to toe, unable to take his eyes off the closed door. 

The room beyond was… almost mythical to him. 

The chambers of the Jedi Council. 

The place where the wisest, most elite of Jedi decided… well, everything. The fate of the galaxy, the core of peace was on the other side of that door.

And any second now it would open and they would call him in. To decided his fate, his future.

“You’ll be fine.” Kit shrugged, flicking his headtails impatiently. “Master Yoda likes you. He’ll make sure you get a good master.”

Obi-wan give his friend a tight smile. He wished he felt as sure as Kit did. But he wasn’t.

Wasn’t sure Master Yoda liked him. Wasn’t sure he deserved a good master, not give the way he was unsettled in classes, lost his temper at times, fell behind in sabre practiced, couldn’t find solace in meditations. 

And after the mess he was sure he’d made of his Initiate Trials Obi-wan was half convinced the council would send him to the Council of Reassignment. That he would no longer train to use the Force and be sent to the Service Corps instead. Or throw him out entirely. 

He’d heard of it happening, more and more in the last few years. Fewer and fewer younglings were granted padawan status. He’d heard whole youngling clans had been sent to the Council of Reassignment.

Maybe he wasn’t good enough, maybe none of them were. 

The more he rocked, the faster and more uneven his breathing got. Till his chest was tight and he couldn’t hear anything over the roar of his own racing heart. 

Not even the Council room door opening. 

It was the touch of a hand on his shoulder that brought him back to himself. And Master Depa Billaba’s warm dark eyes as she knelt to speak to him. “Calm yourself, youngling. Breathe deep and find your balance in the Force.”

Obi-wan nodded and did his best, managing to gain at least a little composure. 

“Well done, my child.” She offered him a soft smile. “I remember how frightened I was when this day came for me. There is no shame in that. But you must be brave and step forward. Now is your time.”

With a sniff, Obi-wan nodded and straightened his shoulders, stepping through the door. 

The centre of the chamber was as empty and silent as the rest of the room was crowded. Behind the wide circle of seats which each held a member of the Great council, the room was filled with other Jedi – knights and masters. Some of whom Obi-wan recognised, some he knew from his classes. Others he knew only by reputation and gossip. But there were a lot he didn’t know. A lot of strangers. And that in itself was frightening. 

The younglings talked all the time about who they wanted as their master; half joking, half hoping. But it never occurred to Obi-wan till that moment that he might be given to a stranger.

Yoda tapped his cane lightly, pulling the attention of the whole room and Obi-wan flushed in shame. He’d been lost in thought and had no idea what Master Yoda had just said.

“Forgive me, master.” He hung his head, trying to hide his embarrassment. “Could you repeat that, please?”

Yoda huffed softly. “How feel you, youngling Kenobi?”

Obi-wan swallowed and lifted his head, answering as honestly as he could. “Overwhelmed, master. And nervous.” 

“Well might you.” Yoda shook his head. “Difficult indeed, your path has been. Wilful, you are. And headstrong. Unfocused and undisciplined.” 

Obi-wan’s eyes dropped to the floor, blinking back tears. He was going to be thrown out. They’d brought him here to tell him he wasn’t good enough.

“But work hard, you do.” There was approval in Yoda’s tone. “To the code and the order, you are loyal.” 

Loyal and hard working were qualities for the Service Corps, not a Jedi. 

Yoda went on. “Well have your teachers spoken of you. Of your efforts. Granted you, the Council has, the rank of padawan.”

Obi-wan thought his knees were going to give out. Relief swept over him like a wave. They weren’t throwing him out. He was going to be a Jedi.

“But who to place such a padawan with?” Master Micah Giiett mused, leaning back in his chair and examining Obi-wan. His sharp gaze belied his usual joviality. Obi-wan liked Master Giiett. All the younglings did. He was a relaxed teacher who encouraged play as much as lessons. But that hard gaze made Obi-wan wonder if it had all been a test. If Master Giiett had been watching and judging their every game.

The master scholar T'un cleared his throat, sounding as dusty as the vaults he spent his time in. “Traditionally a wayward youngling was placed with a strict master. Someone who could set their paths right again.”

Obi-wan wavered a little but raised his chin. If the council thought he needed a master who would be hard on him, then he would do his best to learn from that master. But he was lying if he said the thought didn’t scare him.

“May I make a suggestion, masters?” The voice came from outside the circle of chairs, causing a susurrus of surprise and mild indignation for whichever Jedi had been so bold.

“Master Dooku?” Yoda sounded surprised. “A name you have to put forward?” 

Obi-wan bit his lip as Dooku stepped forward. He didn’t know the Master but Dooku had a severe look about him. His robes were dark and cut to be fitted. His greying hair was styled in widow’s peak and he stood very tall and erect. “I do indeed, Master Yoda. With your consent.”

Dooku scarcely waited for Yoda to answer before stepping out from between the circle of chairs to address the room. “Masters,” He gave a shallow bow to the seated council members, “fellow Jedi. It is tradition that a promising but wilful youngling is given to a more stringent master. And there have been times that policy has served both master and padawan well.” His voice was deep and melodic, hard not to be drawn in by. A natural orator. “But it is just as true that it has cost the Order also. For how many padawans have failed their trials? Broken under the temperaments of an ill-suited master. Or been lost to darkness when they believed themselves fallen short?” 

Dooku moved as he spoke, circling the room to engage each council member in turn. Obi-wan watched Dooku as the Jedi master listed off names; names of fallen padawans Obi-wan didn’t know. And some he did. Some of them were ghost stories told late at night in the dorms, to scare younglings into sticking to the Code. 

As rattled as he was, Obi-wan could feel the flow of the Force in the room, the way Master Dooku’s words caused ripples of shame and regret and sorrow.

“And what do you propose, Dooku?” Giiett snapped, some raw nerve stung by Dooku’s list. “Do you want to train the boy yourself?”

“No, Master Giiett.” Dooku bowed his head, the model of manners. “I simply propose matching like with like. Place the boy in the care and tutelage of someone who understands the challenges he faces.”

“A name in mind, have you.” Yoda intoned. Obi-wan couldn’t work out of Master Yoda was angry or amused. 

Dooku held out a hand, gesturing to just beyond the circle of chairs. “My own former padawan, Qui-Gon Jinn.”

Obi-wan watched the man step forward. Qui-Gon Jinn had messy long hair and kind eyes; a gentleness that was almost the opposite of Master Dooku. Wordlessly, Jinn folded his hands in his sleeves, bowing deeply to the council members.

“As you will remember, Master Yoda,” Dooku went on, “Qui-Gon was as headstrong and contrary as any padawan of his age. He was given to me to teach discipline and respect.”

“A feat some would say you failed to master.” Giiett muttered, but there was a chuckle in his voice as he and the Jedi Knight shared a glance. Obi-wan could tell Master Giiett liked Qui-Gon, even if Qui-Gon was trying not to laugh. 

Dooku’s voice softened in answer, fondness bleeding through. “You may well be right, Master Giiett. Qui-Gon is wilful to this day. But likewise, he is compassionate, noble, attuned to the living Force,” Dooku offered his former apprentice an affectionate nod, “and a better man than I.”

Yoda glanced between them. “What say you, Qui-Gon?”

The tall knight shook back his sleeves, resting broad, warm hands on Obi-wan’s shoulders. “With the council’s consent, I take Obi-wan Kenobi as my Padawan learner.” 

Obi-wan looked up in to the knight, now master’s face as a chorus of _aye_ sounded around the circle of seats. And Qui-Gon Jinn smiled back, giving Obi-wan’s shoulders a gentle squeeze. 

They had apprenticed him to a stranger. And Obi-wan couldn’t be happier.


End file.
